The Gift
by Lord Dracorex
Summary: Cast from Olympus, thrown into the bowels of the one true hell; Tartarus. Captured and forced through countless forms of unearthly torture. Visited by one all knew little of and gifted with a power he neither wants nor needs. Tasked once more with saving the world around him. He is Perseus, the destroyer, and he is the last hope for this world.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 **Note:** Another story inspired by works of another with my own major changes in the plot. When I focus for too long and too hard on one story I begin to burn out and slow down. This story will be developing along side _Creatures Of Myth,_ as such I hope to have regular update for both stories with greater quality for both. It is my hope that you all enjoy this story as much as you have my other work.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians and if I did I doubt I would be writing this story.

 _'Thoughts'_

 _"Other Language"_

"Speech"

 **~Line Break~**

Thunder, rumbling in the backdrop of the great Olympian sky. Lightning flashed in the depths of the dark clouds, lighting them as if swords clashed and sparks within their depths. A boy stood chained in the center of twelve thrones, the seats of power for the mighty Olympian Gods of ancient Greece. Short ebony hair frayed out into sharp tips, unruly even without the wind that blew through the enormous room. His arms extended either side of him, held outstretched and taut by the thick chains of celestial bronze that wrapped around them. Toned legs were bound below him as he was forced into a kneel, two thick shackles binding him in place.

Two sea-green eyes, like two precious round stones of malachite, scanned over the thrones, each carved with the domains of those who owned them. Two stood empty, one of platinum, carved with the likeness over countless hunts and a crescent moon in the center of the back. Across from it the next empty throne, solid gold with images of Delphi, the great Python being slain, and those wounded and being healed, on the back was a large sun like the ancient Macedonian flag. In the remainder of the thrones resided ten of the immortal Olympian council members.

Behind him the two grand doors that marked the throne room's only entrance. Muffled shouting could be heard behind these doors, heavy pounding accompanying it, causing the door to shutter with ever hit. The young boy tugged at the chains that bound him, the resulting rattle echoing around him and throughout the room. Power crackled in the air around him, bound by the very metallic links the secured him before the hearth.

Celestial bronze was a metal of divinity, mined from the very depths of the mighty mount Olympus, occasionally able to be summoned by Hephaestus, God of the Forges. This powerful metal, matched only by imperial gold in ability, not only bound the body, but the soul and magic within as well. God, demigod, mortal sorcerer, it mattered little, their power would slowly drain the longer they remained bound.

Now he, Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, Prince of the seas, bane of the Minotaur, defeater of Titans, conqueror of Kronos, was wrapped so tight in these very chains that every movement ached as his power rapidly left him. Moments before he had been capable of pulling the chains nearly to the point of break, but the effort had drained him far beyond the point of freeing himself. The rattle continued as he once more tried his hand at escape, looking to his father with pleading eyes.

"D-dad?"

The sea God turned his head, his eyes closed as he refused to meet the identical orbs of his son. The boy called out once more, from his place he could see the hands of his father as they tightly held the arms of his throne, the joint stark white as they wound themselves tight. Poseidon shook lightly, his form wracked with choked back sobs. A sneer formed on the face of the chained boy.

"Fine then, now I know how much you really care about me, Luke was right."

" _ENOUGH!_ " Lightning raced from the clouds above, striking the floor just before the demigod with a loud crack, leaving a small black mark in its place. Zeus, King of Olympus stood from is throne, earths most powerful weapon, the master bolt, held in his hand with its point directed toward the teen. "Perseus Orion Jackson, what you say is high treason!"

Hate filled the eyes of the son of Poseidon, "Treason? _Treason?_ You drag me here, chain me to the floor, talk of killing me, and what _I_ say is treason? The only treachery here is my own father refusing to help me as his brother shoots lightning at me."

"Big words for an idiotic boy such as yourself, maybe my daughter actually rubbed off on you. I can only hope the same can not be said for her." Athena insulted him as she had always done, something to do with an idiotic feud with her father. Leave to all powerful deities to hold a grudge for thousands of years and then go so far as to take out their anger on each other's children.

The doors shuddered one hard time, a soft yell of his name from a man was heard on the opposite side. The Gods looked anxiously to them, their eyes flickering between one another. Hera cleared her throat and looked to her husband, a warning he took quickly. His bolt raised high into the air bringing down another arc of lightning from the sky, this one much thicker than the first. A fissure formed in the marble floor, a crack leading to the depths of the deepest and darkest hell known to the world; Tartarus.

"Any last words before you are exiled to the pit for all eternity?" Olympus's queen, Hera, hated demigods more than anything else. She could see them only as symbols of infidelity, signs that her precious family was not as perfect as she wanted it to be. Demigods born to a married deity, especially her own husband, she hated them the most. So it was safe to say she was not his biggest fan.

This was it, the very end of the line. He had heard that most demigods hardly lived into their twenties. He had assumed that most were killed on some quest, ripped to shreds by some ancient monster that managed to best them. As it turns out that is not always the case. Here he stood, or rather was forced to kneel, as the ruling council of the Gods personally planned to banish him to Tartarus. His crime? Not playing into the hubris of these _just_ and _benevolent_ immortals, denying Godhood and a place among them in favor of helping those who needed it more.

He had spurned them that day, in their eyes he had declared mortality a step above. A rare gift, one offered to only the greatest heroes and he had refused so that the forgotten and mistreated demigods would be more than just tools to be used and thrown away, and the peaceful Titans that had been locked away due to fear would be allowed to once more roam the earth. Officially his crime was aiding the Titans, by releasing the ones who were locked away for not but being Titans he had added to the ranks of Olympus's enemies.

Now he understood why these idiots had so much opposition. Those they looked down upon they treated as common filth, no more than insects beneath their boots. Those that had less power than them, such as the demigods or minor gods were pawns in their little game. Annabeth had once used the word toy-maker, a term describing a god who created something just to toy with it and throw it away. The Titans had always seemed the ones to fit the bill, but perhaps he had been wrong in this regard. Kronos was evil, of that their was no doubt, and he would never have joined the dark King, but were all Titans as truly abhorrent as their King and his children?

He met the eyes of Hestia, the flaming eyed Goddess who tended the hearth in silence. Always watching, always silent, forever at the backdrop of the greater scheme of things. Why? Because the Gods were fools, paying little mind to the eldest of Kronos and Rhea. Every veiled conversation, each secret meeting, the backhanded deals made in this very room when they thought themselves alone, she had heard it all. How incautious and witless for them to overlook one of their own. A deep love for the Goddess was in his heart, she was the gentile giant so to speak, the kindest of them all. It saddened him to see her weep so openly as she watched what was to be his death in this farce of a trial.

Vibrant eyes returned to the Queen, defiance shining withing their depths. _"You will regret this."_ The ancient tongue of Greece found its way to his lips as his anger took hold, bringing out his instincts as a Greek warrior. The Goddess merely smirked in response.

"I think not."

With a clap of her hands he was released from his bindings. Before he could so much as bat an eye the crack expanded to just below him and he fell, racing down towards the deepest depths of the Earth. He could hear the doors finally give way to their attackers, a flash of platinum and golden light reaching the corners of his eyes. His saviors had come too late and now he was doomed. A sad smile found its way to his face.

 _'At least they tried...at least I have someone.'_

 **~Line Break~**

Falling, that is all he had done for eight days now. According to myth it would take nine full days to reach Tartarus from the earth, meaning he would soon reach what was to become his new home for all eternity, well if you can call a giant prison older than time and more dangerous than any other place a home. You would think the the Olympians, being the rulers of the Gods and all, would have an express elevator to the place or some form of quick transportation. Perhaps it was part of the torture, nine days to contemplate what had happened to your life, nine days of knowing you were going to hell and there was no turning back.

As it turns out when you are hardly afraid of what could lie below, and thus you do not spend the time dreading your future, one gets very bored very quickly when falling into the pit. The first day he had spent cursing the Gods in every way he could imagine, English, Greek, the little bits of Latin and French that he had known, the latter being a class offered by the Aphrodite cabin back at camp and he had said why not. When he had ran out of curses on what he could only assume to be the second day he had begun playing with his sword, riptide.

This casual tossing of the honed blade quickly turned into training, seeing as the place he was soon to be was brimming with monsters he knew and ones he had never seen before he figured why not be prepared? After six days of constant self swordplay, and not the fun kind, boredom had ensnared him once more. Now his thoughts moved to those who had tried to save him, the two Olympians barred from entry until it was all but too late.

Artemis and Apollo had been enraged when they had discovered the plans of their fellow council members. Both had tried their hardest to help him, the power of their furious blows enough to shake even the mighty doors of the Olympian council with their sheer strength. Those twin archers had been the ones he had grown closest too for a long time now. When Zoe Nightshade, the second in command of the Hunters of Artemis and the Goddess's best fried had died said Goddess had nearly crumbled. When all others had either held little care or were to afeared to approach the man hating deity he had taken it upon himself to support her in her hour of need, a gesture that had forever earned him her friendship.

Apollo was thought to be the polar opposite of his sister, this was something anyone that really knew the two found entirely false. They both held a light heart and were easy to get along with, Artemis's hate of men had earned her a cold demeanor and as such many saw the two as light and dark, hot and cold. With his growing friendship with the Goddess her bother had taken it upon himself to watch him, the spying of the God quickly fading and being replaced by a rapidly growing friendship. He would gladly fight to the ends of this earth for them and they had shown they would do the very same, pounding on the doors of heaven itself to come to his aid.

What little good it did him now, not that he was not grateful, he was extremely grateful. However now he was plummeting into Tartarus with no idea of what lie before him and his only two friends among the Gods could lose their position as Olympians for helping someone branded as a traitor, which in a sense makes them traitors. Not that he was really a traitor.

His head shifted quickly, sea-green eyes looking into the blackness below him, the sound of wind and hair flying around his ears changing slightly as the walls around him began to widen. Below he could see the ground rapidly approaching, a large glade of brown and silver grass and dead trees bordered by black sand, the white waters of the Lethe below. His powers would hold no use here, these waters were beyond him. Part of him was curious as what would happen to him memory lacking self. His eyes slid closed, arms outstretched before coming together, if he was gonna lose it all it might as well be part of the greatest swan dive ever conceived. Something hard slammed against him and blackness overtook him.

 **~Line Break~**

The sound of rattling chains drew his attention, he could feel something hard against wrapped around his wrist and something equally as hard against his shoulders. Slowly his eyes cracked open, through the blur he could make out a large black figure, lines of crimson running along his body like lava flowing along the ash covered sides of a great volcano. The form shifted, clapping its hands together, sending a few sparks flying from them as a dark chuckle echoed around him, the sound like stones clashing against one another.

"Well well, our guest is awake. How good it is to see you again Perseus."

Something about that voice, something so familiar yet so hard for him to remember. There was a twinge, a itch in the back of his mind he could not scratch. Who was it, not someone he was friends with, then it would be less of an itch and more of a tickle. Did that make sense? He thought so. The sharp pain of a palm against his face drew him back to the land of the living, or at the very least the land of the cursed-to-Tartarus.

" _Wake up_ you insolent child! I have been waiting too long for this for you to sleep through it!"

The new split in his lip pulsed with pain, the blood pooled in his mouth until he spit it to the floor. "I've missed you too Gramps." He lazily looked up, defiantly meeting the handsome face of Kronos, the Titan King of Time and Harvest who as it turns out was his grandfather. Kinda sucks to have so many jerks in your family honestly.

The Titan laughed, a cold and dark sound filled with nothing but cold hate and malice. "I see your wit has not left you, too bad the same can no longer be said of your favor among my children."

Kronos placed a hand on the wooden beam that ran along his shoulders, binding his hands with metal chains at each end. Chains ran from from either end, binding him to the wall behind him. He was left with only slight movement, enough form him to kneel or move forward slightly. The room around him was barren, solid black walls on all four sides, just before him a large metal door. Two small braziers either side of the room providing plenty of light. Kronos followed his eye, smiling darkly.

"Your new home, Perseus, I do hope you enjoy it."

A shaky smile found its way to the demigod's face. "I don't suppose this is for some quality family time?"

"Do not worry," The sharp rasp sound of a blade being drawn reached his ears. A small dagger was waved before his face, a golden metal he did not recognize. "There will be plenty of time for us to get to know one another."

 **~Line Break~**

The King of the Titans backed away from his grandson, now coughing from the liquid fire that had been forced down his throat. He sheathed his golden dagger, his amber eyes searching the form of the rapidly healing boy. The cruel smile he wore so often slowly finding its way back to his face, twisting the corners of his black skinned face. When the coughing subsided he spoke.

"Do you know what the best thing about Tartarus is? Here time changes its ebb and flow, one day above could be a year here, or it could be the exact opposite. Our time could be infinite." He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the primordial pit that surrounded the small cell.

Percy smiled, "Great... I would miss our talks." The demigod son of Poseidon chuckled to himself, drawing a frown from the Titan.

"Forty-three years and yet you persist with your insolence. I would offer you a place at my side once more but I suspect you would once more turn it down. Perhaps in another decade or two." The Titan left through the metallic door as he did every single day.

Chains rattled as the boy collapsed, forced to remain hanging as his bindings allowed him only to fall to his knees. The calm and borderline carefree look on his face faded away, replaced with one of a weary soul trapped in hell. As much as he would like to say the Titan was not breaking down his resolve, doing so was a broad faced lie. He closed his eyes, trying in vain to gain some form of rest, to sleep away the horrors around him. The door creaked on its hinges as it began to slowly open, his eyelids twisted tightly. Had it been another restless night already? Was he truly beginning to lose even his sense of time?

Dull sea-green eyes cracked open ever so slightly, expecting to see the sandaled feet of his torturer, instead he was met with the sight of black combat boots with silver lacing. His eyes traveled up slowly, following dull grey pants to a silver shirt. Auburn hair tied into a long ponytail, falling past the figures shoulder. Pale skin of a high boned, aristocratic face of untold beauty. The silver eyes he so longed to see were missing, in their place were black irises filled with twinkling stars and vast galaxies, universes were created and destroyed in an instant in those eyes. He knew it wasn't her but the tears still fell from his eyes.

"Please, please not her. _Please_ Kronos, anyone but her." He gasped out, tears flowing heavily from his eyes as he pleaded. Thousands of years of torture he could probably take, but seeing something happen to her even once was beyond his ability to take. Just the thought of harm coming to her, of her being in the hands that evil Titan, it was almost enough to shatter him completely.

The replica stepped forward, her every step as quite as an gust of wind, exactly what one would expect of a great hunter. His eyes closed as he turned his head down, tears falling freely through the cracks. A soft hand lightly grasped his chin, drawing him back up. There was a moment of silence before he slowly opened his eyes, meeting the cosmic orbs of her doppelganger. There was a surprisingly kind smile on her face as she looked at him.

"Love is an amazing thing Perseus, it can empower the weak or topple the strong. You know this well, my Champion."

He jerked his head away from her hands. "I don't know what you're playing at Kronos, but I swear when I get out of these chains." He spat out, pulling heavily on his bindings and causing the metallic lengths to clink together loudly. From the corner of his eye he could see the smile falter slightly on her face.

"I am no Titan, Perseus, and this is no trick. This form was chosen for you, I knew it would ease your burdened heart to see her once more."

"Then who-" A finger was placed on his lips, stopping him from speaking.

"I am the creator and maker, mother and giver, the first and last, beginning and end. I am Chaos and you are my Champion."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 _'Thoughts'_

 _"Other Language"_

"Speech"

 **~Line Break~**

Something shifted in his eyes, small storms of sadness shifting into tempest of rage. His pale form, now emaciated, a hollow shell of what he once was, seemed to gain a newfound strength as he pulled on his bindings. The chains shook heavily, his nostrils flared and the trails left by his tears slowly faded in the heat of the deepest pit known to the world. The water floating through the air became heavier, each molecular sized drop weighing down like an anvil. Percy leaned forward, his face coming as close to the false Artemis as his chains would allow. She stood still and quiet as his eyes roamed over every inch of her.

"I've told you before you pint-sized volcano, the false escape attempts wont work on me. You even did a shoddy job impersonating her."

She tilted her head in confusion. "I had thought this form would calm you, though I did not change my eyes so that you would not think me to truly be Artemis."

The air around her shimmered, auburn hair in a fishtail braid darkened to a deep black, falling just to her shoulders. The tight, silver clothing of a member of the hunt was replaced with a long low cut dress, dark as night. There was no change in her skin, the pale as snow skin of Artemis was matched by the figure before him. The woman grew a few inches, her face becoming more regal, breathtakingly beautiful was the only word that could describe it. One pale hand reached forward, stopping just before his face as if she expected him to shy away, instead he looked to her in defiance and heavily veiled awe.

She moved her hand forward after a moment of searching his eyes, cupping his face. Waves of amber energy swirled form the point point of contact, twisting and turning around his body, wrapping and covering ever inch of him. Slowly his body began to fill out, muscle rippling below his naturally tan flesh. He filled out, becoming just as tone and fit as he had been on the day of his imprisonment. Something felt different, he felt stronger than before, stronger than he looked. There was an unnatural power building in his chest.

Next she pulled away, snapping her fingers as the chains dissolved into dust. "You are free Perseus, you may do as you wish, I will not bound you once more but should you refuse my gift then you will never escape this place." She watched as he rubbed his wrist, trying to remove the stiff feeling in his joints.

"And if I do, then what? You want me to kill the Gods for you? Maybe you are the creator, but there are good Gods and I wont kill them off for no reason. Besides, what could a demigod do that you, the all-powerful creator, could not?" He padded his pockets, searching for his faithful companion. It seems even riptide was stripped from him when he was banished from heaven and earth.

Black hair waved around like smoke in the wind as she lightly shook her head, a smile on her face. "Your dealings with deities has not been the best I see. No Perseus, I ask not that you destroy the Gods, simply that you conquer them. This world is blighted by hate and greed, the very principles that have stranded you in the bowels of my son, Tartarus." A soft giggle left her as he looked around him in disgust, realizing he was standing withing a physical manifestation of a primordial.

"All I require in return is your loyalty, the very reason I have chosen you for this positing. Be loyal to those you care for and this world, for you hold loyalty to all that is good in this world. Conquer this world Perseus, burn out the hate in the hearts of the wicked or burn out the wicked themselves. Do you accept my gift, child of the seas?"

Slowly and hesitantly he lowered himself to his knees, bowing before her as he would be forced to do before any other deity. His head hung low and his eyes locked to her feet. A finger placed below his chin forced him to meet her eyes as she crouched to meet his eyes, the smile on her face still standing. Slowly she guided him to his feet until they stood before one another.

"You need not bow before me, my champion. I must go Perseus, I am tired and my power is waning as I begin to slumber. I will watch over you as long as I can, but soon my eyes will close and I will be of no use until I once more awake."

Her form became that of black and silver dust, fading with an invisible wind. Some remained, wrapping around his body and stretching to form clothing. His jeans, now little more than tattered bits of fabric loosely hanging from him, slowly reformed. A pair of black converse formed on his naked feet, a dark sleeveless shirt reading _Camp Chaos_ with a white infinity below it did the same around his chest. Around his neck grew a ebony strip of leather, an onyx stone the size of a quarter at its center, just between his pectorals. Stars and galaxies shone in it, moving as he moved so that it never showed the same place, as if it was a spyglass into the night sky.

In his right pocket fell a familiar weight, that of his constant and everlasting companion. It gave him comfort to once more feel the minuscule weight of the sword turned ballpoint pen. He reached into his pocket, sighing as his fingers slipped around his sword. He removed it, a pang of sadness shooting through him when he was met with a black pen with a red cap.

A soft snapping sound echoed around the small room as the cap fell to the floor. A medium length, hand-and-a-half xiphos, slightly longer than riptide was. The blade was a deep black, slight lines of crimson running through it. The crossguard, each of its ends folding back slightly to make small infinities on either side, and red leather wrapping around the hilt of the blade. He tossed it in his hands a few times, feeling the even weight of the blade. Words fell from his lips without meaning as he ran his fingers along the blade's length.

" _Sorrow Song"_ As if sensing the intentions of its new master, the runes of the ancient Greek language glowed to life along the blade in its center. The voice of the creator echoed through his mind as the fiery runes faded to a simple white.

 _'The rasp of this blade will bring sorrow to all those that shall stand before it. The song of the damned, the wails of the forgotten, the moans of the defeated. Wield my gift Perseus, this blade holds a power unlike any other. Wield it well my champion.'_

A smirk found its way to his face as the blade returned to its hidden form. This was going to be fun, looks like old gramps was about to enjoy some more bonding time with his favorite grandson. That Titan was going to regret the day he plucked a falling demigod from the skies of the pit. Percy raised one foot and with a strength not even he knew of he kicked in the metal door, sending it and the stone connected to its hinges flying across the hall beyond it. The cyclops that had apparently been guarding it lie crushed, a golden dust in his place and his loincloth left as a very disgusting, very smelly spoil of war.

"Wha?" One of the now visible, and countless number of monster guards vocalized as it dumbly looked to the crumpled metal of the door then to Percy and back again. Percy drew his blade once more, enjoying the feeling of the unknown metal in his hand more and more with every moment. The closest monster, a rather small Telekhine and the one that spoke eyed the blade before sighing and raising his spear and shield. "Well shit."

 **~Line Break~**

Kronos's throne room was large, given that it was carved out of one of the mountains withing the depths of hell. Most of his first imprisonment had been spent waiting for what little followers he had in the pit to finish what was to be his fortress below the earth. Deep withing his castle, in the very center of the large mountain, that is the place where he had personally carved out his throne. Seven large pillars rand either side of the large room, a brazier at the base of each and his banner hanging from their tops. The black stones of the pit dulled the light from the fires, even still he could see perfectly in the dim room.

His knuckles glowed as he tightly clutched the arms of his throne, leaning forward slightly in anticipation. A power unlike any other, dwarfing his own with its intensity, formed and faded moments before in a room he knew well. Now he could feel it, the power of one of his own, the power of the seas raging as if Poseidon and Oceanus now stood together to free the interned demigod. Metal on metal, screams of rage and fear, crashing stone and splintering metal, the sounds of battle beyond what should be possible in his halls reached his ears.

With every yell the power grew closer, with every scream it burned brighter. He was Kronos, the most powerful of Titans, the King of his people. Armies had marched before him and friends had abandoned him, yet only now did he know fear. Whoever it was fighting withing the stone halls of his fortress was set to free the demigod, something he refused to allow. A light clatter could be heard as the Empousa beside him shook in her armor, her crimson eyes watching the large doors at the hall's end with trepidation.

The doors gave one great shudder, dust falling from it as it did so. Then another, this one much harder than the first. The Titan's fingers twitched, ready to summon his weapon at a moments notice. With a loud bang the doors swung open, smacking the wall either side before bouncing off and collapsing to the floor. A lone figure stepped through the portal, a figure he knew all too well.

"Heeerrreeees Percy!"

The demigod smirked as a growl of rage escaped the Titan who, thinking that some sea deity had stormed his home away from home, had been ready for a real fight. Now a demigod who had hardly defeated him at an eight of his power was standing before him. It was almost enough to make him laugh at his own fear, but now rage seeped its way through his immortal core. How _dare_ a lowly demigod pound his way through the home of a _king._ Kronos stood, bits of stone flying from the walls, transforming into metal as it formed around him, creating classic and intricately carved armor. His power was not even at half, not that he would need more than an that to defeat such a puny foe.

"Aw, why the face gramps? I thought you'd be happy to see me." The son of Poseidon gave a mock frown, summoning his new blade and giving it a slight twirl. The Titan of time narrowed his eyes, a very familiar celestial bronze and tempered steel sword appearing between his fingers.

"Like it?" Kronos asked, following the gaze of his _oh-so-loved_ grandson. "I was far from convinced that I should keep it, such a _mortal_ weapon. Though I see now it will be given a second chance at destroying its greatest foe."

"Aw, you saved it just for me?" There was a dangerous whirlpool of fury hiding behind the sparkle of childlike innocence and playfulness that he always seemed to exude. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, preparing for round two with the King of the Titans.

The stone around his neck cracked and from it flowed black and silver powder, the same that Lady Chaos herself had dissolved into. It flowed down his body, slowly solidifying into a heavy Greek armor made of an unknown silver metal, a classical spartan helmet with a black plume forming atop his head. Perfect symmetry and beautiful craftsmanship defined the armor, deep black engravings of grand battles flowing along its length. The only thing that seemed out of place was a small circle on his left gauntlet. With a sharp rasp the circle extended, a silver shield nearly identical to the one Tyson had given him extended into his hand, the only difference, the depictions were black and the center held an ebony infinity.

The surprised eyes of Kronos brought a smirk to his face. "Like it?" he asked, looking over his own armor through the gap in his helmet. "A present from my secret admirer." He winked. Gods please say that Chaos did not actually hear him say that.

"It matters little, I will slay you where you stand!" Kronos roared, racing forward with an astounding speed.

A angled slash came flying toward Percy's throat, the false form of Kronos's scythe a blur of silver and bronze. Sparks flew and a clang sounded as the blade met his new shield. A weapon fictionalized to be the most powerful weapon of the Titans met the gift from Chaos without so much as causing a scratch. A jab sent Percy backwards, jumping out of the way of the deadly tip. Another, this one sending him rolling to the side. Their blades met, Kronos leaning in to be only a few inches from Percy.

"Give in _boy,_ I am older than the Gods themselves, son of Gaea, I am no longer bound by mortal form. You cannot beat me!"

Percy could feel it, the gradual slowing of the world around him, the very molecules of water in the air became torpid and slow. Thus was the power of a deity of Time, to slow the very air around them to make their enemies move at a snail's pace. Luke, or more precisely, the Titan before him possessing the body of Hermes's son, had used this very same tactic during the battle of Manhattan. That was then and this was now however, with no host holding back his true power Kronos was able to slow his opponent much more significantly.

Even with the influx of power he felt, the amazing strength he had been presented, he still could do little against the power of time. Despite this he still managed to block the blows of the Titan, whether by means of shield or with his own blade. Ever so slowly he was being pushed back, knowing well that should he not do _something_ to turn the battle in his favor his freedom would be short lived.

He gathered the water in the air, an unnatural moisture with no beginnings nor end, simply there to make the pit humid and all the more unpleasurable, to anyone other than those bound to the sea that is. Slowly he brought it close to himself, its movements just as slowed as his own. Using what little concentration he could spare he used it like a bionic frame, pushing it forward to augment his own speed and strength. If Kronos was surprised he did not show it, only growling once more and fighting all the harder.

"My turn." Percy mumbled.

After nearly ten minutes of being constantly fought back, forced to block every blow with his shield, he was finally on par with his opponent. He pushed Kronos back toward his empty throne, raising a brow ever so slightly at the abandoned spear and shield beside it. Sparks flew as blades met, vertical slashes, quick rolls, stabs and back-steps, two warriors with unimaginable power duked it out in the pits of hell itself, to Percy it sounded pretty badass.

"I will _not_ be beaten by _you again_!" The Titan brought the blade down vertically with all his might, his power flowing into the blade and giving it a bright glow. Percy raised his own sword and, trying to end the battle just the same, dropped to his knees and moved to impale his enemy as backbiter reached Kronos's center. There was a flash of light, when it cleared the battle was over.

Backbiter was split down its center, the two separate metals split by the black blade of _sorrow song._ Their tips just reached Percy's helmet, cutting two angled slashes, one shorter than the other, just over the right brow of his helm and coming down to its cheek, neither completely piercing the metal, only leaving slight gouges in it. The very end of his own blade now stood buried in the chest of Kronos.

"No..." The Titan mumbled, then slid back off the sword and fell to the ground, a strange energy leaving his body and flowing into the demigod that had defeated him. Percy could only look upon the battered and beaten form of the Titan King as his armor slowly dissolved back into the form of a pendant. He took a moment to look over his own body, just as many cuts all around it as Kronos held. He watched in awe as his blood began to change color, from a deep crimson to a vibrant gold.

 _'Hail Perseus, Titan of Time and Harvest.'_

He looked to his own hands, staring at them in amazement, trying to process what this meant. He now understood his power, the gift he had accepted not an hour's half before this moment. His power was what all men wished for; to conquer and take. On the bright side this probably meant no more filthy loincloths as spoils of war, he chuckled to himself at the thought.

 **~Line Break~**

 **Percy's armor, or at least how I imagined it. (It refused to allow me to insert a link so I must shamefully ask you google badass greek armor and it is the first image. (the one with the sideways plume))**

 **Just replace the bronze with silver, the white with black, give him full toed foot armor (Don't know is that part is classified as part of the greaves or not so I just said foot armor), and replace the helmet. Yes I know it is called a Corinthian helmet, but if you google Corinthian helmet and spartan helmet you will see a slight difference. I pictured him with the spartan variant.**


End file.
